


Pockets Full of Stones

by hearts_blood



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Community: oldschoolfic, F/F, Memories, POV Female Character, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/hearts_blood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talia shares with Susan how she holds on to herself. After she's gone, Susan tries to hold on to Talia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pockets Full of Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



> Written for Oldschoolfic's Springtime Serenade fic exchange. Prompt was "mementos." Bonus prompt was ["What the Water Gave Me"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=am6rArVPip8&list=FLGZXcSnx6eDKYZ7h-ydj_6g&index=1&feature=plpp_video) by Florence + The Machine.

Susan stared at the small zinc-and-copper disc sitting peacefully in the palm of her hand. The head of long-ago American president gazed back up at her, his face in profile and his one visible eye calm and serene. There was the relief of a monument on the back, a pair of mottoes in English and Latin on its front, and a year, 1972. Just a simple, unobtrusive United States penny like billions of other still in existence, inherently worthless except for sentimental value—a dime a dozen, really, although neither pennies nor dimes were still in use in the U.S., or anywhere else on Earth, for that matter. But it was one of Talia's most treasured possessions.

"I think it belonged to my grandmother," Talia said, "but I'm not actually sure. It feels like I've had it forever."

"It's in beautiful condition, especially for being nearly three hundred years old," Susan commented, rubbing it between her forefinger and thumb. "How do you keep it so shiny?"

"I sometimes clean it with vinegar and salt. Otherwise, just a lot of handling." Talia smiled faintly. "It's sort of a silly thing to attach so much importance to, but it's been my good luck charm for years."

In spite of herself, Susan was touched. "Well then," she smiled, "thank you for showing this to me." Carefully, she tipped the little circle into Talia's hand and watched her tuck it away in a little velvet ring box. A faint floral scent hung around the slender woman's head and hands. "Is that roses?"

"Mmhmm." Talia stooped over to put the box away in a drawer. "It's my favorite perfume. I have to use it sparingly, though; really good quality rose perfume's hard to get a hold of out here." She straightened up and smiled. "Tea?"

"I'd love some, thanks."

Susan made her way to the sofa and sat down to watch Talia assemble two cups of tea, gently enthralled with the movements of her slender fingers and the way she brushed her butter-blond hair back behind her ear while she dipped the tea bags into the water.

She took the small handleless porcelain cup Talia handed her and scrunched over to make room on the small couch. Talia's skirt-covered thigh was warm through the leg of Susan's uniform trousers.

The two women sat together as they had once or twice before, now—silently, companionably, letting the sweet herbal steam work its magic. After a few minutes, Susan started to hear a series of low, delicate sounds playing in the background, coming from discreet speakers integrated into the walls and ceiling of Talia's quarters. A slow smile spread across Susan's face. "I like the ambiance," she said. "Is that running water?"

Talia tilted her head thoughtfully. "A small waterfall, actually," she corrected, her voice throaty and content. "There'll be birdsong in a few minutes."

"It's nice. It's been years since I was anyplace where there were streams or birds to hear."

"I brought a whole collection of nature sounds. Rain, running water, birds, wind through leaves, insects—things to remind me that I wasn't actually _born_ in space."

"How do you mean?"

"Being trained for military life, maybe soldiers don't have this problem." Talia held her cup close to her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face that made it embarrassingly difficult for Susan to concentrate on her words. "The majority of my PsiCorps training was conducted on Earth. Once I was qualified and started doing professional work, I was almost always on ships or being taken to various stations and trading posts. After a while, I needed three cups of coffee in the morning before I could remember that I'd been born on Earth, that I'd had a real childhood and a bunch of stupid teenage years, and didn't spring out of nowhere, a fully-formed P5 available for business at so much an hour." 

Blushing a little, Talia shook herself out of her reverie and concentrated on sipping her tea. "It's silly, really."

"No," Susan said, her voice soft and strangely wistful, "it's not." Her free hand brushed Talia's, and their fingers gripped together fiercely. "The water, the penny, even your perfume, it's how you keep yourself grounded... It's how you remind yourself that you're _you_."

A muscle in Susan's cheek jumped, and before she could have second thoughts, she leaned over and just brushed her lips across Talia's. When she drew back, Talia's look of surprise matched the one Susan felt on her own face. "Wow," Talia said. "I, um... didn't expect that right away."

Susan gripped her hand tighter, and grinned nervously. "I really like roses."

*** 

Security went over Talia's quarters after her abrupt departure; on Garibaldi's orders, they and a maintenance team practically stripped the suite of rooms down to the sheet metal in their search for listening devices, sabotage, suspicious alterations, anything Talia might have done under the influence of the Control personality.

They found nothing. Only a few small belongings that Control had apparently not thought worth her time to pack. A few data crystals, overlooked in a drawer, containing an innocuous assortment of books and music; a nearly-empty bottle of Talia's favorite rose perfume; and a little velvet jewelry box containing a single antique penny.

Garibaldi brought everything to Susan without asking, though he held onto the scanty collection for a little longer than was strictly necessary.

"Sorry it took so long." His usual smart-ass demeanor was dampened by the recent events. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't some kind of bug."

"A simple scan would've told you that," Susan replied, turning the penny over between her fingers. "I mean, as a source of information, it might be of use to an honest-to-God psychic, but it's not going to tell the Psi Corps anything. There was no good reason for you to keep Talia's things for so long..." She trailed off at the slightly ashamed and saddened look on the security chief's face. _Fine time to be feeling jealous, Ivanova._

"You know," said Garibaldi, as he turned to go, "for what it's worth, I think she—Talia, I mean... she really did care about you."

"Maybe so. And now she's dead." Susan took a deep breath and slipped the coin into her pocket. "Story of my life."

She kept it with her for a long time, on her bedside table next to the perfume bottle, or in the pocket of her uniform. It weighted her down like a bag of stones no matter what she did with it. She didn't _need_ to carry it around, or torture herself by placing it precisely on her nightstand where she would see it as she felt asleep listening to the sound of water running over river stones, and when she woke each morning smelling the faint scent of roses. But as heavy as it made her, by carrying the coin around in her pocket, she could curl her fingers around it from time to time and hold Talia's hand.


End file.
